Steady,
Go!
The 5 minutes before the bell goes to announce it is six in the morning and time to go home, is the longest of course. I had a hectic night at work, not as hectic as those on production, but busy, busy, busy.
And so we walked out into the half light of a September dawn, the dew had fallen hard, and the heater was needed in the car for the journey home. I took the road up to the cliffs, and the lights of Calais still twinkled in the gloom, and ferries were brightly lit and making good time in the calm conditions.
I dropped Jools of at work, as I wanted the car as there were chores and things to do. I had a shower and fell asleep in bed for a couple of hours. when I woke up I had two of the three cats with me, blissfully happy to be there with me.
I jumped up, almost, and after a cuppa, I headed out in the car, cameras at hand for some snapping, and then the battle in Tescos.
When we were bringing Mum home last Monday from our day out, we went through a village called Wickhambreaux, and it looked like a picture postcard. We should have stopped there and then, but we wanted to get back home. So, I went out there to take a few shots of the water mill, the pub and the village in general.
A lazy stream cuts the village in half, there is a large green, a 14th century pub and a wonderful collection of old houses. I snapped away, happy doing what I love. It was too early for a beer, and the inn was not yet open, although the dray was there dropping off full barrels.
I headed back and stopped off in the village of Sturry for pictures of its parish church. I am on a bit of a mission to photograph as many Kentish churches as I can. Loads to go as yet, but Wingham was a real gem. I will post the pictures in due course. Anyway, I was met by a warden who was nothing but a pleasure to talk to; she gave me a leaflet on the history of the church, pointed out things of interest and could not have been nicer.
The church was fantastic, and I took many more pictures than normal for a church; two large family monuments, a bishop's chair, carved pews and the most wonderful wooden panelled roof. It was a delight, and outside the light was perfect for shots of the church and graveyard.
I am not religious, or 'spiritual', but I think I can appreciate a good church and the important part one played in village life in years gone by.
I drove back to Dover and into the chaos of Tescos; some children have gone back to school, but some apparently have not, and in places it resembled a creche, and a badly behaved one. But I whizzed round snatching up the things we wanted, and was back int he car and heading home in under half an hour.
After a quick lunch, and listening to the Simon Mayo show on Radio 5, I made a batch of saffron buns, and a jar of chilli jam with the chillis and tomatoes from our own garden! How special does that sound? The buns were wonderful, and the jam needs maturing, but looks good and ideal on cheese and in a sandwich to add bite.
Jools had invited a friend from work round, Javier is from Spain, and somehow we were having something what we thought was Spanish for dinner. We have a recipe for Chorizo hash, and we like it, but I panicked as to what he would make of it. I also made a batch of Delia's potato and cheese bread, and it was all just about ready when he arrived.
I needn't have worried as he loved the hash, as he loves fried chorizo, but adored the bread, and we had a long talk about his life here in England and his home in Spain. We watched the almost full moon rise as I sipped a glass of malt, and then it was time for him to go home, and me to get some sleep. At last.
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